Just Another Night
by Dark-English-Rose
Summary: Wolfwood muses, Vash gets drunk, chaos ensues. Vash/Wolfwood.


So, ok, I wrote this thing absolutely ages ago, and I've finally been inspired to post it.

It's currently standing as a one-shot, but if I get enough inspiration/prodding I might consider continuing it, I'm already getting a fair bit from a friend of mine (she's the one that's finally got me round to actually putting this up for the public)

Um, let's see… I've watched all of the anime a couple of times, and I've read a bit of the manga, I apologise for complete lack of mention of canon events, I'm not really sure where exactly this would fit in the timeline, so I guess it's a little TWT.

It's just a little fun I had after watching how Vash and Wolfwood interacted.

DISCLAIMER: Not mine, not even close.

WARNINGS: Some small use of language, a little smut but nothing explicit beyond very passionate kissing.

-X-

I watched him out the corner of my eye, my face the very picture of amused exasperation as he stumbled round the bar, singing loudly and earning glares from the other patrons – that tie around his head, as ever when he was drunk – where did it even _come_ from anyway? Who knew, just another part of the eternal mystery that was Vash the Stampede.

"Heeey Nicky," he grinned, falling (literally) into a seat beside me, and leaning in so close I could smell the alcohol on his breath, warm against my cheek.

Maybe even I'd had a little too much to drink, I was starting to feel light-headed – and I stubbornly told myself it was the alcohol talking.

Then I remembered I hadn't really had any.

"Hey, needle-noggin'. You're drunk." I told him, unnecessarily, of course, it was blatantly obvious to the whole town and their mother. But sometimes, around him, I just stated the obvious – maybe because those eyes robbed me of any intelligent thought.

I was supposed to be cool, damnit, why couldn't I pull that off this close to him?

"No, you are." He replied, ever-witty, and burst out laughing at his own joke.

I sighed, spotting Meryl in the corner alternating her disapproving glances between Vash and Millie – who was also quite tipsy. She caught my glance and gave me a 'stop him drinking, now' look. Hell hath no fury and all that, so I hastily complied.

"C'mon, time for bed." I stood, hauling him to his feet. Now he was practically leaning against me, I realised the error of my decision – Meryl's wrath or not, could I really manage to get all the way up to the outlaw's room with him pressed against me like that, _without_ doing anything?

I'm not even quite sure when I first realised I was attracted to the tall blonde I was now lugging out of the bar (and trying desperately to pretend I wasn't – think unsexy thoughts…), it wasn't one of those thunderbolt things, it was something gradual, I guess.

It wasn't like one night I went to bed thinking of him as a friend, and woke up in the morning thinking of him _that_ way, though sometimes I wish it was – it would make it easier to sort out in my head…

Every time I start thinking about it, I think about little things that make me fall for him all over again, just to think about them – that bizarre, childish charm, those occasionally smouldering good looks. Not to mention that steadfast determination to save _everybody _that sometimes made me think _he_ should be the priest – lord knows I don't exactly act the part.

Whenever those things pop into my head, I think, did they cause me to fall for him in the first place, or do I notice those now I've already fallen?

I really can't make my mind up, but it's a good way to while away a few hours.

I managed to get him into our hotel without incident – strangely because I'd distracted myself with memories of him, so I didn't have to think of the here-and-now stumbling along beside me and half-rambling, half-singing whatever drunken thing popped into his head.

He was _really_ drunk…

"Hey, wanna know a secret?" He suddenly said, stopping next to me in the corridor.

"Sure." I replied, trying to tug him towards his room – not figuring it'd be anything worse than 'I like doughnuts', which was hardly a secret to anybody with even one of the five senses.

He managed to keep both me and him stopped in the corridor by the simple expedient of being very large – I know my cross was heavy, but it didn't pull back.

He threw an arm around my shoulder and dragged me in, there was that smell of alcohol on his breath again, so close I could almost….no, bad priest.

"You can't tell anyone, 'specially not Wolfwood." He admonished, waving a finger drunkenly in front of my face.

He really was _plastered_.

"Sure, whatever you say." I told him good naturedly, still not expecting anything particularly revealing – the guy was blind drunk, he probably thought the fact he had ten toes was a secret.

I found myself wondering if he _did_ have ten toes, or if he'd lost one at any point. And when you're contemplating somebody's body so much you even think of their toes? You know you've got it bad.

"I really like him." He whispered conspiratorially in my ear, and all the blood left the rest of my body – half to rush to my cheeks, and the other half…well, that's pretty obvious.

I scolded myself for thinking like that. He was drunk, any minute now he'd continue with 'he's my best friend' and pass out, or throw up.

"He really likes you too." I confirmed, finally managing to get him to stumble a few more steps towards his room – almost there now…

"No, I _really_ like him." He elaborated, and I found myself breathless – did he mean that? No, drunks said crap like 'I love you' to everybody all the time – even people they'd just met, right? But the way he said it… like it was this big secret…that wasn't normal… was it? Or was that just wishful thinking on my part?

He blinked a few times and then stared at me, as if he'd suddenly realised I was there.

"Nicolas!" apparently, he had "You didn't hear that, did you?" he asked shrewdly, narrowing his eyes.

"Hear what?" I asked innocently – much as I wanted to – and I did – I wasn't getting into that now, while he was drunk. Sure, maybe I'd never have a chance while he was sober, but he'd kick my ass in the morning if I took advantage of him now.

"Me saying I liked you." He answered, triumphantly, as if he was proud he'd kept his secret. He didn't seem to realise that he'd just let it slip (twice now).

"You do?" I couldn't stop myself replying, maybe I had had too much to drink after all… or rather, maybe that's what I could tell him in the morning…

That wasn't horrifically immoral, was it?

Probably, but those wide blue eyes staring into mine convinced me not to care.

"Yes, but it's a secret." He confided, again, and I couldn't help but wonder if he really was _that_ drunk, or, like his apparent 'dumb luck' in escaping any situation, it was all just an act of some kind… "You might not feel the same."

I had to ask, Vash is always saying you have a choice, but right then, I couldn't have stopped the words that came out of my mouth any more than I could have stopped myself breathing.

"What if I did?"

I felt almost like the world had stopped, like everything had gone blurry, grey, slowed down so much it didn't even look like it was moving anymore as I waited with bated breath for his reply.

Then suddenly, everything sped up, exploded in super-fast techni-colour, because then I was being pushed against the wall of the corridor, and there were a pair of desperate, whiskey-tasting lips against mine, and an insistent tongue practically begging for entry.

Who was I to resist? I think my lips fell open in shock, I couldn't quite piece together how we'd gone from stumbling down the corridor to pressed up against the wall, against each other, lips locked.

Eager hands slid round my waist, one pulling me in closer, the other spreading possessively across my backside, and I managed to regain my senses enough to respond in kind.

The kiss was furious, almost desperate, the both of us struggling for dominance, not in a bad way, it was an enjoyable little tussle, and I for one didn't want it to end.

I didn't even care we were in the corridor as Vash's hands slipped under my shirt, and I felt those soft gloves running across my skin.

Needless to say I was _quite_ disappointed when…

"Oh it's Mr. Vash! Hello Mr Vash! ….oh…" Millie, nearly as drunk as Vash was, came half-stumbling down the corridor towards us, and Vash broke away, looking over startled – it only last a moment, before that typical, unashamed grin returned. Of course, how he managed it I'll never know, because he hadn't removed his arms from their possessive grip around me, and lord knows I probably looked pretty dishevelled right about then.

What was it about this man that made me loose my 'cool'?

"What is it Millie…" Meryl began as she rounded the corner, her voice tired, the unspoken 'now' in her question suggested she would like to go to bed just once without some Vash-caused (well, Vash-related anyway) trouble interrupting it. She trailed off, of course, when she saw us – Vash, still grinning like an idiot, and me…well, I'm not sure what my expression was, probably a combination of embarrassment, arousal and annoyance – they'd interrupted my fantasies come to life, damnit.

"Um...uh…that is…we…uh…" she stammered, then fell silent again – Millie was giving us a disturbingly knowing grin.

"Well I'm sure you boys would do much better in your room, now." She said with a grin, walking over and giving us both a push in the right direction "And you make sure don't wake up any other guests in the hotel ok?"

Sometimes, Millie was far more astute than we all gave her credit for.

Meryl, on the other hand, was still watching us with her mouth open – and there was that look, in her eyes, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her, it was painfully obvious that she'd fallen for Vash as well (and it seemed only Vash himself ever managed to miss those hints), and equally as obvious that it had taken her a long time to come to terms with it – it was a pity she had to see this. Moreso because I still wasn't even sure if 'this' would carry on now, let alone in the morning. I couldn't think about her for long though, because suddenly Vash was stumbling away with a wave and a cheery "Ok we won't, good night insurance girls!" and I was being tugged along with him.

I just overheard Millie saying "Now isn't that nice?" before the door to Vash's room was closed, and I was suddenly being pushed up against it with that hot mouth meeting mine again, and then it was like nothing had happened, like there hadn't even been a break.

He was tugging at my clothes, pulling my jacket off almost desperately, fingers fumbling at the buttons of my shirt, without the slightest break in the kiss – and I did the same. You have no idea how hard that fucking coat is to get off when you've got an eager mouth pressed against yours and hands running over your body, but damn if I didn't manage it. Eventually.

Both semi-naked now, him too drunk to worry about those scars, me too giddy with lust to even bat an eyelid at them – though the first few times I saw them I couldn't help but flinch. He pulled me back towards the bed, breaking our lip contact only long enough to find out where it was, spinning us round so he could push me onto it, climbing on top and straddling my hips.

He pulled away to grin at me, eyes heavy with lust, before dropping back down – not to reclaim my swollen lips, not this time, he turned his attention to my collar bone, nibbling it almost daintily and driving me absolutely wild.

After a moment, he stopped, and I felt his hot breath against my neck – nothing for a long moment.

"Vash?" No reply….

Then eventually…..snore.

A fucking snore. He'd passed out.

"God damn you Vash the Stampede!" I swore out loud – here I was, all hot and bothered, all worked up and nowhere to go, and he'd passed out.

I sighed grumpily, wriggling around until I was comfortable – unable to avoid admitting it was nice to sleep with that weight pressed up against me – and not even bothering to think how he might react to wake up like that – he deserved any confusion he got for passing out on me, damnit.

Shooting one last glare at the comatose blonde, I closed my eyes and tried to get some sleep.

-X-

Yes, I know, I'm sorry. I kinda hope you're all as frustrated as Wolfwood, maybe I'm evil like that XD

Would you like some more?

Reviews are very welcome


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